


The Greenhouse

by OliveTreee



Series: The Flower Shop [2]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sequel, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28723299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliveTreee/pseuds/OliveTreee
Summary: It sat untouched for 10 years: the pretty glass greenhouse in their courtyard. It had been a wedding gift from Gaara,  a sweet thought and tender hope that Momoko would find herself again among the dirt and flowers. It isn't until Shinki stumbles into their lives that the greenhouse finally sees its first blooms and under his tender care, it flourishes.**This is the sequel to ‘The Flower Shop’**
Relationships: Gaara (Naruto)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Flower Shop [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105682
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyeee and here we go! Here’s the prologue! I’m not sure what the update schedule will be just yet but I’ll let you guys know soon! 
> 
> Just a heads up- you don’t have to know all of Boruto to understand the story! It takes place between the time of Gaara and Shinki’s first meeting and then when we see them for the first time in the series! So it’s not gonna be Boruto heavy! 
> 
> Welcome back and I hope you enjoy the next part of their story!

"Momoko?"

Her name was soft, just barely above a whisper as he called out to her from the doorway. She didn't turn to him but she did pause in the middle of her slice, her knife coming to a halt just before cutting through the last of the vegetables on the wooden board before her. Gaara watched the tension in her shoulders, the way they trembled ever so slightly, and the frown that had pulled at his lips melted to something more bitter than sweet.

He walked into the kitchen and as he did so a small tendril of sand flitted across the room and to the small radio that sat in the corner. It fiddled with the knobs for just a moment before a light and pretty music filled the kitchen, and at the sound of it Momoko let out a small sniffle. Gaara took the knife from her hand, and she allowed him to do so. 

"Come on," He gently beckoned her as her eyes grew a little glassy, and though she looked as though she may reject him, Momoko let him pull her to the middle of the kitchen and take her into his arms.

She laid her head against his chest and let him sway them along to the music that filled the air, the tears in her eyes finally falling as she listened to the calming beating of his heart. Together they danced the same dance they had for so many years, both in moments of joy and moments of sadness, like this. What had started out as a romantic gesture encouraged by their therapist had become a form of therapy in and of itself, a moment in time in which there was nothing but the pretty music and their soft swaying. Things just felt easier, better, if only for one song.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly over the music, his eyes closed as he rested his head on top of hers.

"I will be, it's just..." Momoko's words died out and she scolded herself for the tears that had begun to soak his shirt, "I know it's been so long, and I know it's what your council wants, but I...I don't think I can."

Gaara would not deny his disappointment, but he would never admit it to her. He had talked about it with his personal therapist before, had gotten an earful about the subject from his council for the past few years, and had hoped somewhere deep in his heart that she would come around to the idea. It had once been her dream to have children and though they had suffered great losses in the past, a small part of Gaara had thought that maybe she would see adoption as a way of still getting what she always wanted. Unfortunately, he had been proven wrong earlier that evening when their therapist had brought up the idea. It made Momoko instantly tense, a look he had grown all too familiar with instantly flashing through her eyes and it had taken next to a miracle to calm her down again. The negativity lingered even as they came home, her silence heavier than usual and the pale blue of her gaze more distant.

"It's alright," He reassured her but the heaviness in his words said otherwise.

"I'm sorry," She breathed softly against him and he gave the hand in his own a gentle squeeze. 

"You don't have to apologize." Gaara replied in all sincerity, pressing a soft kiss to her hair, "I only need you, Momoko."

She knew he was telling the truth, as he had said this so many times before. All he needed in life to be happy was her and that feeling was mutual. They had found comfort in each other's company and learned to grow content with a quiet house and busy life. Gaara and Momoko filled their time with work, training, and each other, and soon became happy with the little life they had built from ashes over the past ten years.

But sometimes there were those moments. Moments that no amount of kisses or sweet words could remedy, holes that gaped just a little too wide in their hearts and reminded them that something was missing despite how far they had come. Some nights they would simply lay in each other's arms, awake and silent, and only then did they let themselves feel the void that could not be filled. They never spoke about what was missing, never discussed that emptiness, but they knew each other well enough to know that they both felt it. She felt it when she saw children playing in the street and he felt it too when Temari sent letters about her son and happy family.

The moment would end and their lives would go on but neither of them could ever really shake that feeling of wanting something more than just each other. It was a seed that had been planted in their youth, when they watched clouds on roofs and kissed beneath streetlights. Though they were no longer the young adults they had been then and they had filled their life with as many distractions as they could, Momoko and Gaara would never be able to completely be rid of the feeling that this just wasn't enough.

For the sake of each other and the pretty music in the air, they said nothing more.


	2. Hope, If Only a Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys! This story is gonna have less chapters so I’ll only update once a week this time around! So every Sunday they’ll be a new chapter! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope to hear your feedback!

"I thought we were done warming up!" Kankuro laughed, jerking just far enough away to avoid her fist, "Come on, Peaches, step it up a notch!"

"Be careful what you wish for," Momoko taunted, a smirk spreading on her lips, and the sparkle that came to her eyes made him just a bit nervous.

At first he did well enough defending the series of sharp jabs and swift punches thrown his way, but Momoko was nothing if not relentless. Years of training, of bloody afternoons and early mornings went into each and every clean hit. There was an elegance to be said about the way she moved; though her training paled in comparison to that of her partners', the entirety of it had been focused on perfecting the skill she executed now. What she lacked in time was made up for in determination, a point clear in the fire that burned behind her pale eyes and the concentrated knot that came to her scarred brow. It was a force to be reckoned with even in the most casual of situations- a lesson Kankuro had long since learned but could never quite grasp. 

Despite being a well trained shinobi, Taijustu was not Kankuro's strong point. There was no chakra during these matches, only fists and sharp wit. Though he wasn't unskilled by any means, there was never a force quite so powerful as a woman scorned. Come rain or shine, dawn or dusk, Momoko always came at him like this. Even before her art had been perfected and her skills had been honed, she fought with a fierceness even he scrambled to defend against.

Still, it would be a lie to say that he wanted to be anywhere else. It was just the two of them in the training grounds, with only the sand as their observer, and Kankuro cherished these moments spent dodging clean hits. Even if she did land a blow or two, draw blood or litter his skin with bruises- she was his, if only for one fight. Little could compare to the fire of her gaze and the feeling of being the one in front of it. Sparing was the one place where he was the only one on her mind, and Kankuro would continue to rise with the sun each and every morning for the sake of sharing time between them.

It didn't take very long for her persistent assault to prove effective, the frequency of her hits and fire of her eyes wearing him thin. Soon the space between her blows and his dodges began to lessen, her fists getting closer and closer the more worn down he became. Momoko had long since memorized the signs of his weariness, and when the first exasperated huff left his frowning lips, she made her final move.

She took a steady aim and swung her next shot right towards his face; with the small margin of his recent dodges, he knew this blow would likely land. In a moment of panic he reverted to a less graceful tactic, forgoing a skilled dodge for a quick and clumsy dunk. It was not the first time he had used this to opt out of a hit and by luck it was not the last. Maybe it was a bit unfair, to use this attempt at safety against him, but they only ever stopped when someone hit the sand. With this in mind, Momoko swung her knee up as Kankuro came down, cap colliding hard with jaw.

The impact of her under his chin sent him falling to the ground with a cry of pain, and he landed on his back with a small puff of sand.

"What the fuck?!" Kankuro exclaimed, holding tight to his already bruising chin.

Above him, Momoko only snickered and shook out the tension in her wrists. No amount of practice would ever loosen the strain on her muscles and nerves: a small price to pay for strength.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" She taunted him, a cocky smirk on her lips as she watched him squirm to sit up in the sand.

"One of these days you're gonna break something!" Kankuro groaned, sitting up with an angry glare, "When that happens, I'm suing!"

"Go ahead," Momoko said with a shrug of her shoulders, "See what happens,"

Kankuro stuck his tongue at her and she snickered in return as she reached out a hand for him to take. As much as his wounded pride and aching body hated to be the one in the sand, he never minded it too much when she was the one pulling him up again. After she pulled Kankuro onto his feet, Momoko gave him a hefty pat on the back to shake the sand loose from his clothes.

"You wanna go again?" She offered, and he huffed in return.

"Why, so you can break my jaw next?"

"I was going to go for knocking out a tooth or two, actually,"

"I'd laugh but you're probably serious," Kankuro grumbled, then muttered under his breath, "Bitch."

"What was that?" She asked, giving his back another especially rough pat. 

"Nothing, dear!" He coughed out, stepping away quickly before she could do it again.

Momoko was just about to follow after him and prompt for another round, but the sound of someone coming towards them caught both of their attentions. The pair of them turned their focus away from each other and to the woman who came running up the small hill, red-faced and clearly winded.

"Lady Momoko!" Hana called out frantically, rather breathlessly, "Lord Kankuro!"

"Hana?" Momoko perked up, quickly crossing the training ground with Kankuro following closely behind.

She stopped running when she was finally to them, trying hard to catch her breath as she looked panic between the two. The woman must have run all the way from the village center, given how winded she was. Despite the exhaustion on her face, the worry was far more clear. It put an instant dread in their stomachs and an uneasiness that bloomed just as quickly as curiosity.

"Its Lord Kazekage!" She panted out, "T-There was an incident in the village!"

"Is everyone alright?" Kankuro asked quickly, already picking up discarded puppet on the sidelines in a hurry.

"For the most part, but Lord Gaara was hurt," Hana explained, looking to Momoko, "He's at the hospital and he's sent for you, my Lady."

"Why did no one get us sooner?" Momoko snapped at her, then looked to Kankuro when she received nothing more than a nervous shrug in return, "Come on,"

Together the two of them hurried back to the village, Hana staying back for the sake of regaining the energy she had lost on the way there. Luckily it was a short distance from the training grounds to the outskirts of the village, and in little time the plains of the dessert turned into a thin littering of homes and houses.

The village looked almost completely intact; there were hardly any signs of an attack at all. People were still wondering about curiously, especially the closer they got to the center, but nothing looked to be destroyed or damaged. It seemed Gaara had delt with the incident rather swiftly and left little evidence of the whole ordeal at all. Still, the pair of them hurried through the streets as though the danger was still very much real and somehow still lurked nearby. 

"You think it was an attack?" Kankuro asked her, tension clear in his knotted brow.

"A shitty one, maybe," She huffed in return, glancing over to the untouched village.

The hospital was buzzing despite the relative calm outside and the moment Kankuro and Momoko passed through the doors lthey were being directed to where the Kazekage was being helped.

Momoko knew better than to panic so quickly but she couldn't help the worry that began to swell inside of her. Very rarely did Gaara ever get hurt and the few times he did it never ended with a visit to the hospital. She knew he wasn't dead or dying, probably didn't have too serious of damage or else they would have been notified of the instance quicker. Still, that didn't ease the annoyance she felt towards the lack of notification on his part but she pushed aside that negativity for the sake of the task at hand. If it had been too horrible she would have been one of the first people to know; it was a matter of picking her battles for the time being. 

When they finally reached the room he was in the both of them were relieved to see him up and talking to the nurse at his side as the doctor behind him finished dressing the rest of the wounds on his back. Momoko quickly made her way to him, the nurse and doctor stepping back and leaving the room with a bow as she took his face into her hands to look him over.

"I'm alright, beloved," Gaara tried to reassure her but the words only made the hands caressing him hold a little tighter.

Momoko said nothing, only the flickering of her pale eyes up to meet his signaling she had heard him at all. He let her look him over in an inspection of her own, searching for any unnoticed scratches or scrapes before focusing on the wounds already dressed. After a few moments more of worried checking she let out a soft and almost shaky sigh, then pulled her hands away from him.

"Why didn't you call for us sooner?" Momoko asked, disapproval clear in her words.

"I handed the situation quickly," He replied, then reached out to take her hands into his own, "I'm sorry I worried you,"

"It's alright," Momoko sighed tensely, but her sour mood softened as he placed a gentle kiss to the back of her knuckles, "What happened, Gaara? Why didn't your sand protect you?"

"I didn't want him to think I was attacking," Gaara replied, letting go of her hands so that he could pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, "It would have only made matters worse."

"Why didn't you want to attack him?" Kankuro asked, plopping down into the chair beside the bed, "Whoever 'him' is."

"He is just a child, and he was scared," The Kazekage said, and Momoko perked up at the words.

"A child?" Momoko repeated, obviously startled, "A child did this?"

"Not intentionally, no." Gaara explained with a shake of his head, "He wasn't in control of what he was doing."

"He some kinda freak or something?" Kankuro grunted but instantly shut his mouth when Gaara turned a sharp eye his way.

"Where were his parents?" Momoko asked with a frown, and Gaara's expression melted to something just a little softer as he turned back to her.

"He doesn't have parents," He replied, a frown on his lips, then added after a moment, "He doesn't have anybody."

"Well, I'm sure he'll make a whole lot of friends at the juvenile center," Kankuro said as he stood and Gaara sent him a sharp glare, "If you're okay, I'm gonna go grab somebody to take a look at this," He lifted his chin so Gaara could see the bruise forming, "Your wife tried to kill me again."

"How rude," Gaara replied dryly, and the slight sarcasm in his words made Momoko chuckle.

"Jerks, both of you!" Kankuro exclaimed, dramatically throwing his hands up into the air as he turned and stormed from the room, leaving the amused pair of them alone.

When the door behind him was closed, the cold air of the hospital room shifted to something just a little warmer. Even in a sterile environment, the comfort of each other's company was enough to relax. Momoko helped Gaara back into his coat, his injuries not crippling but still making him flinch at the movement of stretching his arms. She frowned at the sight, then ran her hands down the length of his arms as she came to stand in front of him again. He closed his eyes at the soothing action, enjoying the touch that always put him at ease.

He could tell she was still worried despite the reassurance he had offered her. Momoko's lips were pulled into a small frown, her fingers fumbling with the cuffs of his coat as she pretended to fix them again and again. Gaara gently pulled her hands away and held them in his own, pulling her a little closer to stand between his legs where he stayed sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.

"I really am alright, Momoko," Gaara softly reassured her and Momoko's pale eyes flickered up to meet his.

"I know you are, I just..." She trailed off and he gave her hands a soft squeeze.

"I know."

Momoko leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and Gaara returned it without hesitation. She had lost her elegance with words over the years, sometimes trailing off and falling into silence in place of explanation, but Gaara didn't mind. He was a man of few words himself and so the absence of them didn't burden him in the slightest. Sometimes there were simply no words, as they had learned during their life time, but sometimes they weren't really needed. What went unspoken in voice was said in soft touch and tender gaze: a language only the two of them fluently spoke.

When she pulled away Momoko leaned her forehead against his, the pit still in her stomach but shallowing by the moment. It wasn't often he was hurt but every time it happened she got a brief flash of the very first time she had seen him hurt, when he burst through her hospital room doors with a bruised and broken nose, and the reminder of those times always made her heart race and panic rise. Even after a decade, those memories still found their way into her thoughts at the most unpleasant of times.

"Is he alright?" She finally asked after a moment of silence, pushing away the ghosts of a time long since past, and focused more on the feeling of Gaara holding her close, "The child?"

"Physically, yes, but..."

"But?"

Gaara pursed his lips, trying to find the words as he looked down at their hands in his lap.

"He...reminds me of myself, when I was a child." Gaara finally said, a weight to his voice, "He looked so lost and confused, and so hurt."

"Don't worry, we can get him help," She reassured him softly, pulling her head away from his to meet his gaze, "There's sure to be someone in Suna who'd be willing to take him in."

Gaara dropped his eyes down to their hands again, a slight furrow to his brow as he lightly ran his thumbs over the back of her knuckles. The look on his face was a little conflicted, as though words sat on the tip of his tongue but he was still finding the strength to say them. It made Momoko frown, an odd and uncomfortable feeling beginning to form inside of her.

"Momoko, I..." He paused for a moment, collected himself, then tried again, "I want to help him, to mentor him. So he can get a better hold on his power."

"That's nice of you." She replied a little shortly and he knew the suspicion that brewed without even having to seek it out.

Gaara glanced up and when she didn't speak again, he frowned. He could tell by the hardened look in her eyes that she knew what he was trying to imply, but Gaara knew that look well enough to know that the conversation would not progress any further if he wasn't the one pushing it. Stubbornness was an acquired trait in Momoko, one he had struggle to adjust to but had grown to master all the same. Sometimes, though, especially in moments like these, he reminisced on the times of less resistance.

"Momoko," He said gently, almost beckoning her in the way he did when he knew she was upset.

The sound of it made her step away from him, her hands slipping out of his as she shook her head.

"Momoko, please-"

"No, Gaara." Momoko said firmly, stepping out of reach as he stood from the bed, "We're not doing this, we aren't having this talk."

"He's all alone and he needs someone," Gaara tried to reason, but she shook her head again, "Someone who can understand him."

"Then we'll find him someone," She replied, "But we can't help him."

"I can, though, we can," He said, standing from the bed as she backed away from him with a troubled look on her aged face, "His technique is similar to my own, I could help him learn to get a better control of it and use it to his advantage. And you-"

"I have nothing to teach him," Momoko interjected sharply, her glare now focused out the window, "I am not a shinobi and my taijutsu skills aren't anything special."

"Don't sell yourself short, you've come a long way," Gaara reassured her, but she only huffed in return. He tried to steer the conversation back on track, "But I'm not talking about teaching him, I'm talking about just...being there for him. Not as a mentor or a teacher, but perhaps as a m-"

"Don't." Momoko said quickly, holding a hand up to him, "Don't even say it."

He sighed, his gut telling him that the hard look in her eyes and frown on her lips meant he should stop where he was and drop the conversation entirely, but his heart screamed the opposite. Gaara saw something of himself in the child, reminding him of the years where he was unable to control the beast inside of him and suffered greatly because of it. Though they were not close in the beginning, at least Gaara had a family of sorts; Shinki had no one.

It was a flicker of hope, just a glimpse of a dream long since dead that made Gaara even consider voicing this idea in the first place. Here was a child that he could help, who shared an alarmingly similar ability to his own and that he resembled greatly, without a family or anyone to guide him. Gaara didn't usually believe in things like fate or destiny but he could not deny the coincidences that occurred between their situations. Of course it would take Shinki's approval as well for anything to be set into motion but if the way he had settled in Gaara's embrace was anything to go by, he would not reject the idea of being taken in by the Kazekage and his wife.

The most difficult part would be getting Momoko to agree to the whole ordeal. Hardly a year had passed since their talk about adoption and the topic hadn't been revisited since. Maybe it was a little foolish to hope that something had changed between then and now, but the circumstances didn't allow indifference. While he wanted to be patient and understanding, her decision would greatly impact the course of the child's life and, quite possibly, theirs.

"I know we've talked about this before and I know you said you weren't ready but...but Shinki needs us, he needs a family, and we could be that for him." He stepped forward and tried to meet her eye, but she made it a point to avoid his gaze.

"No, Gaara, we can't," Momoko protested, a tremor in her words, "Please, just drop it."

"I can't do that," Gaara replied firmly, "Shinki needs someone to look after him, to help him, and I'm the only one in the village that can do that."

"Then you can visit him, where ever he ends up," She offered, obviously looking for a way to escape the growing tension between them, "That should be enough."

Gaara frowned, stopping his pursuit for just a moment so that she could gain her footing again. He didn't back away from her but he did let silence hang between them, allowing her a cushion to collect her emotions and her thoughts. He could tell by the way she kept glancing up to the door and then down to her feet, almost as though trying to find ways to escape should things take a turn for the worst. Communication was something that once came effortlessly to them but time and trauma had put a strain on what had been so easy before. Even he, as collected as ever, found words harder to come across where they were once in abundance.

"Is this enough?" He asked after a moment, breaking the silence with his gentle inquiry.

She wouldn't discredit his question by playing stupid: Momoko knew what he meant. The conversation nearly a year ago had sat and festered in the back of her mind, seeping into every thought and every instance it could. It fought its way to the front when she walked past the door to the empty bedroom in their home, one large enough to home but not to spoil, and again when they had breakfast at a table meant for four. Truthfully, not a day passed when she didn't think of a child. Something was missing; they both knew it well enough not to speak the words aloud.

It was hard to let dreams die, especially after they had been so cruelly shoved out of reach. No amount of time or happiness could fill some gaping wounds and that was something she realized more and more every day since their therapist had mentioned the idea of adoption. Maybe she was being too sensitive by clinging to pain nearly a decade old, or maybe it was selfish to drag Gaara behind her though the years, but she couldn't help it. The first half of her life had been spent with a dream in mind and the second half was spent mourning the loss of it.

Subconsciously, with stinging eyes still focused on the bright white tile beneath her feet, Momoko laid a shaky hand on her stomach.

"Oh, Momoko," He breathed softly, sadly, stepping forward to collect his wife in his arms and hold her close.

She didn't cry or weep like she may have in the past, her moments of sadness having reduced to silent tears, but it didn't mean the pain she felt wasn't vivid. It was a pain Gaara knew all too well, one he tried hard not to dwell on but still sometimes forced itself to the surface. Kurara had been just as much Gaara's as she was Momoko's and to say he didn't understand what she felt now would be a shameful lie.

He pressed his forehead to hers, his own eyes a little glassy behind closed lids, and she let out a shaky sigh at the feel of it. Even in the worst of times and hardest of troubles, nothing could ever sooth her as much as having him close.

"No one could ever replace her," Gaara reassured her, barely above a whisper, "But Shinki needs us, Momoko, and we need him, too."

He was placing too much weight on this child's shoulders, he knew that. They only shared one conversation, had between the particles that sliced open his skin and over the buzzing of uncontrolled power, but Gaara had a feeling about Shinki that couldn't be shaken. It was the same feeling he had about Momoko in the beginning, that feeling that said she could mean everything to him if only given the chance. He had been right about her, no matter what obstacles or hardships came in the way, and he was certain that he was right about Shinki as well.

It took her a while, a few moments of silence and contemplation, before Momoko finally spoke again. It was soft, just barely above a whisper, but it was a start.

"Can I meet him?"


	3. An Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s this week’s chapter! I hope to hear your feedback and thanks so much for reading!

"He didn't answer our questions or have any of his own- the boy hasn't said a word since he got here," The doctor informed them, flipping through the clipboard in his hand, "He's a bit underweight and there are a few dental hygiene issues, but nothing that can't be easily fixed. Physically, everything seems to be alright, Lord Kazekage."

"Thank you," Gaara said and the doctor before him nodded in return, "May we see him?" 

"Of course."

The man stepped aside and Momoko tightened her grip on his arm just a little. Gaara looked down at her, at the uneasiness in her gaze, but when he laid his hand over her own she seemed to calm just a bit. She was nervous, that was obvious, and he didn't have to know the exact reason to understand her feelings. He gave her hand a small squeeze and together they entered the small hospital room.

A young boy was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face turned away from them as he looked out the window. He made no sign of having heard them, didn't turn their way or move a single muscle to indicate he even knew they were there at all. His hands were folded in his lap and littered with new bandages, resembling the kind that sporadically covered the visible length of his arms. The sight of him was more sad than anything else, with his lanky limbs and bruised skin.

"Shinki,"

At the sound of Gaara's voice the boy perked up just a bit, his fingers twitching slightly in his lap, before he turned to look at the pair of them. Momoko didn't expect the painted markings on his face, or the cold look in his eyes, but he seemed even less sure of her than she was of him. She stopped just past the door as Gaara stepped closer to him and the boy's gaze flickered to him for just a moment before settling back on the woman at his side.

"This is my wife, Momoko." Gaara introduced her, the tenor of his voice soothing in the ways it always was when he meant to comfort.

He wasn't entirely familiar with the sight of the Kazekage, but there were a few details he could see now that had been lost on him in the tense moments of their first meeting. The faint wrinkles around Gaara's pale eyes and the tired look in them showed the years he had endured, as did the forming lines in his forehead from the countless times his brow had been knotted. He looked his age but still held the handsomeness of his youth on his pale face; he was one of those men who aged with grace.

His wife was a stranger sight, one Shinki stared blatantly at. The dully colored top she wore left her inked arms exposed, each their own gardens of tattooed flowers the young boy didn't recognize. The scar carved into her forehead was identical to that of her husband's in nearly every way, lacking only slightly in neatness. It matched the scars that covered her face, marred her cheeks, and ran down the length of her visible body. Together these injuries and dark tattoos should have made her a threatening sight, one that even skilled men may have been deterred by, but for some reason Shinki was not intimidated by her in the slightest.

For every odd characteristic, she had a normal one to balance it. Her face may have been scarred but her eyes were gentle and lined with the same wrinkles as her husband's. She showed more signs of age with the white that sporadically streaked through her short blonde hair and the lines setting between her eyes, but there was a beauty to her that lingered from her youth. There was hesitance despite the way she stood straight and almost alert. Momoko was a collage of strange and normal, and Shinki let himself stare. He could tell his blank gaze was making her uneasy, but he didn't much care.

They were a strange pair and yet they complimented each other rather well; even as a child he could see that. Their demeanors reflected each other in kindness and composure, both of them collected and carrying an unspoken grace to them that was clear in the way they moved and interacted with the world around them. Lord and Lady Kazekage were as odd as they were ordinary, the perfect balance between unusual and incredibly simple. Shinki wasn't sure what to make of them.

She forced a stiff smile to her lips and her hand moved as though she meant to offer it to shake, but she soon thought better of it and let it fall again to her side. Gaara placed a hand on the small of her back with a reassuring smile but it did little to ease her discomfort.

"It's nice to meet you, Shinki." Momoko finally said stiffly, the smile still there despite its strain.

The boy said nothing in return, instead finally turned his attention back to Gaara. When no words came the Kazekage gestured with his free hand to the chairs that sat beside his bed.

"May we?"

After a moment Shinki nodded without a word and the pair of them took their seats.

Momoko didn't pay much mind to the conversion, choosing instead to observe Shinki as Gaara tried to get the replies for some of the questions that had been left unanswered. Though the boy said little, he nodded or shook his head at times, offering feedback to the Kazekage when he wanted. Sometimes he stayed silent and when that happened Gaara easily moved on.

She sat back in her chair and simply watched the young boy, how his gaze stayed firmly on Gaara as the man spoke with a gentle authority. Even if the doctor hadn't previously mentioned being underweight, Momoko could clearly see the way the clothes he wore seemed to hang a little too loose on his thin body. The marks on his face were sloppy and poorly done, and whatever he had used to paint them seemed to be irritating his skin if the slight redness around the paint was anything to go by. What wasn't covered by bandages on his arms showed light bruises and faint scars long since healed, ones she only noticed since she was watching close enough.

Momoko understood why Gaara saw himself within the boy. He said little and showed even less, a frown more suited to his lips at this point then a smile could ever seem to be. The way he looked at people, unsure and mistrusting, was similar to the stories she had heard of Gaara in his youth. There was no blatant madness or lust for blood in his dark gaze but there was an uneasiness there, like he was inconvenienced in some way by having to interact with anyone. The way he communicated with others was stiff and uncertain, as though he was ready to spring from his seat and defend himself at any moment.

There was also something else there, something that made Momoko falter the moment she saw it.

"Is there any family you know of?" Gaara gently inquired, sure not to overstep any boundaries with his tone, "Anyone you can remember?" 

It was pain. Not the kind that brought tears to his eyes or made him cry out; the kind that made his hands clench so tightly in his lap that his knuckles turned white, the kind that only lasted a moment before it was smothered back into the darkness it had come from. He said nothing to Gaara, the frown on his lips pulling to something colder, and the Kazekage had the sense to move on.

It was a feeling she knew well and Gaara perhaps better, a feeling that no child should ever know. It was something she had seen in her own eyes all those years ago, a cold pain that she had tried to shove back into the corners of her mind in order to find just a moment of naive peace. Years had been spent feeding into those feelings of loneliness, of emptiness- as though there was nothing left in the world that would ever cure the pain that burned so hot within them. Gaara had felt it in his youth, when he was nearly the same age as Shinki, when the world turned its back on him and so he turned his back on the world. It was what Momoko had felt when she had been rescued, when her hopes for the future and some of her love for Gaara had been ripped away from her with one bloody tug.

If you weren't careful, that kind of feeling could swallow you whole before you've even realized how far it had gone. Even she had given in to it a few times, stared at the ground from high places and lingered on knives far too sharp. Of course Shinki was still young, hopefully hadn't been so consumed by that agony yet, but Momoko knew as well as anyone else where those feelings could lead to.

Something in the back of her mind told her to stop: stop empathising, stop looking for herself or Gaara within this child, stop letting herself hope. He was not Kurara, he never could be. This child was just as battered and broken as the two of them; though they were still getting help and improving by the day, there was still so much to fix before they could even hope to help him. It felt selfish to even consider taking him in when Momoko and Gaara had issues of their own to sort through. She still couldn't get through a month without suddenly being swept away in a random panic, Gaara could hardly hear the word lavender without tears welling in his eyes; how could they care for Shinki when they couldn't care completely for themselves?

Still, louder than the voice that told her to stop, something else within Momoko shouted to hold him tightly to her. It screamed that they could find happiness within each other, that Shinki could fill the void that gaped larger and larger with every year that passed. In learning to heal him maybe they could heal themselves as well, perhaps driven by the desire to be so good for him that they better themselves along the way. Gone would be the days laying awake in bed and wondering what could be better; life could be better, they had a chance to make it so. Shinki would have parents to guide him and care for him, and they would have someone to shower in the love that overflowed from each other.

If she let herself linger on it, she could imagine how well Shinki would fit into their lives. He would take the spare room across from their own, fill the quiet house with his footsteps, and give Gaara something to write back about. Shinki could train under Gaara and learn to master the technique so similar to his own, and even if it was little, Momoko would teach him the taijutsu she knew and find a new sparring partner within him. He could learn the steps to their bad kitchen dancing, maybe even come to enjoy it as they did, and together the three of them could be happy.

Isn't that really what she had always wanted? To be happy?

The door slid open and the doctor that had greeted them stepped inside with a clipboard in hand. At the sight of them Shinki went quiet and turned away, the cold indifference slipping back into place despite how long Gaara had sat here and talked to him. It must have been an hour or so, as the sun was just beginning to fall from the sky, but it felt like only moments.

"Shinki has been cleared for release, Lord Kazekage," The doctor said, staying in the doorway, "There is some paperwork to be done first but after that, he's free to go."

Gaara stood from his chair, "Thank you, I'll be right there."

The doctor left without a word, the door to the room still open as the Kazekage glanced at his wife. Momoko had said nothing the whole time, eyes shifting between the tiles, the window, and the boy. She looked at him now with little more than weariness, one even he struggled to read, but there was the slightest shift in her gaze that made him perk up just a bit. Momoko nodded without a word, and Gaara understood.

"I'll be right back, Shinki," He said and the child finally turned back to watch him.

Gaara bent down to press a kiss to Momoko's head before he left the room, closing the door behind him as he did so. The two of them were left in a stale silence, one that should have been far more uncomfortable than it was. However, now that Gaara was gone Shinki let himself blatantly stare at her and Momoko did not hesitate to do the same. For a while there were no words, no sounds outside of the occasional footsteps outside the door or squeaky wheel of a passing cart. She gave room for him to speak if he so desired but when no words came, Momoko offered some of her own.

"You do not have a place to return to."

It wasn't a question, more a stiff observation, and the boy nodded without a word.

Maybe she would have been embarrassed, if she were still who she had been all those years ago, but that feeling was as foregin to her now as contentment. Instead she sat stiff and unwavering in her chair, focused solely on the boy before her.

"Gaara would like to mentor you; your technique issimilar to his, he would be a great help." She said and when Shinki offered nothing in return, she went on, "He also wants to take you under our care." 

The boy's eyes widened, if only slightly, and his eyes flickered to the chair Gaara had been in just moments ago. He stared for only a moment before turning back to her, watching her unwavering indifference. Shinki observed her for a moment, the way she grabbed tightly to the fabric of her pants, before he spoke directly to her for the first time since meeting.

"Is that not what you want?"

"I'm not sure what I want." Momoko answered without missing a beat, "But I love my husband more than anything, so I'm willing to try."

It wasn't very inviting, she knew that, but it's what she could manage. She was still not entirely sure about the idea, having been unable to convince herself fully this afternoon, but Momoko could see in the way Gaara talked to the boy that he would not let the matter die.

"I don't want your pity." Shinki bit out and the bitterness in his tone took her by surprise.

Momoko fell silent, watching as the child glared angrily down at his bandaged hands. It was a strange thing to hear from a child, an even stranger anger to summon so suddenly, and it made her wonder for not the first time this afternoon just what it was that had left the scars upon Shinki's body.

She felt that same feeling tug at her heart, that same voice screaming in her ear, and this time Momoko did not scramble to silence it.

"Shinki, I..." Momoko hesitated, taking a moment to find the words, before speaking again, "I can't promise that a life with us will be easy. Gaara and I both have things we still struggle to manage, battles we fight every day, and we did not build the life we have with a child in mind. But if you do decide that this is what you want then we will do our best to give you a good life, just be patient with us. It will take some time to grow used to us and vice versa, but if you're willing to try, so are we."

Momoko wasn't sure what part of what she had said stuck with him, what words made him sit a little straighter in his seat and stare at her with a little more than cold mistrust, but Momoko was glad she had said it. It was just a glimpse of wonder, a brief flickering of hope in the child's eye, but it was enough to ease her nerves, if only a little. 

Gaara entered the room a moment later, the papers having been signed and Shinki cleared for release. When he told them as much Momoko rose from her chair, and to his surprise Shinki all but jumped off the bed to stand at her side. The woman looked down to him and though there was no smile on her lips, the small nod she offered was reassuring, and the child shifted just a little closer.


	4. Doubts of His Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and I hope to hear your feedback! 
> 
> Have a great day!

Shinki shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hands folded firmly in his lap as he looked around the dining room. Just as the rest of the house it was duly colored and sparsely decorated, the most exciting thing being the sliding door that separated them from the rest of the home. In the open archway that led to the kitchen he could see glimpses of them as they moved about preparing dinner and the smells that drifted into the room around him made his stomach all but roar.

He couldn't remember the last time he had sat at a table to eat, or even eaten something hotter than lukewarm. Hot food was a delicacy in his eyes, something hard to come by and even harder to make last. It made him feel out of place, planted a seed of guilt within him as he could do little more but sit and wait for it to be ready and served. Though he knew there was no way he could help, would likely be more of a burden than he was a hand, Shinki could not sit still knowing he could contribute nothing to the dinner being prepared. For not the first time in his short life he felt incredibly inconvenienced by both his age and the experience he lacked because of it.

The child wondered, for a fleeting minute, if perhaps they would teach him to cook. The young and hopeful part of him could imagine them showing him how to cut vegetables or stir broth, how to season and slice and they would do it all with ease. Momoko would laugh when he messed up, the kind and tender way he had seen mothers do, and maybe Gaara would smile with the same appreciation that all father's did. As soon as the image entered his mind in clarity, Shinki banished it away with a curl of his lip. It was stupid to imagine things like that, stupid to let himself get carried away with childish hope. He may have been young enough to excuse such things but Shinki was far too mentally old for his age, and therefore too old to dream.

He doubted there would ever be a moment like that for them, if the way things were was anything to go by. It had hardly been a day since they met and yet Shinki could already feel doubt beginning to settle within him. Though Gaara was known to be a merciful and kind leader, adored by the village and respected by his peers, there was a staleness to him that Shinki could not shake. He had been nothing but kind and understanding,but the only times Shinki had seen genuine softness on him was when it was directed towards his wife, who seemed to reserve her most human side for him as well.

For not the first time since meeting her, Shinki pondered the woman with an uncomfortable feeling inside of him. He had never seen a woman who didn't smile every few moments, didn't throw her head back with laughter or offer a warm kindness when they talked. No, Momoko had done little more than reassured him that they would try to give him a good life, but other than that she had been a cool composure of nervous indifference. She seemed as though he made her more uncomfortable than she made him, addressing Gaara more and only sparing Shinki a few glances here and there. Any words spoken to him were stiff, unsure, as though she had never encountered a child in her life. Maybe it was shallow to believe that all women would be kind by default, but the tension that Momoko carried within her was almost discouraging.

And yet there was that feeling within him that all children felt when it came to women who offered just the slightest sign of reassurance: that longing to be nurtured and cared for by them. Though Gaara had been the one to want to take him in and had shown him more kindness, Shinki could not deny the inclination he felt towards his wife. It could have been based on gender alone, or perhaps it was the slightest glimmer of kindness she had shown him in the hospital, but the young boy took an odd and unwarranted curiosity to her.

"Shinki," Gaara addressed him once he entered the room, hot bowls in his gloved hands, and the boy sat up straighter in his chair, "Dinner is ready, sit back."

The boy nodded without a word and leaned away in his seat so that he wouldn't get in the way of them setting things on the table. Gaara placed a bowl of rice and another of miso soup, and just as he pulled away Momoko was there to set the baked fish and steamed vegetables down too. The pair of them moved in and out of the kitchen, coming back with bowls and cups as Shinki sat uncomfortably at the table, until finally Gaara took his seat at the head as Momoko came in with a pot of tea.

"Thank you," Gaara said as she poured him a cup of the hot green tea, and Momoko gave a simple nod in return before filing Shinki's.

The boy said nothing, instead stared down at the steaming tea as it filled his cup, before he looked up at the woman. Her gaze met his for only a moment before she turned away without a word, pouring herself a cup before taking her seat across from Shinki and at Gaara's other side.

They said their thanks (well, Momoko and Gaara did- Shinki said nothing) and dinner began. Momoko took Gaara's plate and began to serve his food for him, while Gaara offered out his hand to take Shinki's. The boy stared into the open palm, brows coming to a knot as he did so.

"May I?" Gaara finally asked, patient and kind, and though Shinki wasn't entirely sure what he wanted, he nodded anyway.

The Kazekage took the boy's plate and began to serve him just as Momoko had done for him, taking portions of the food and setting it on the plate for the child. He filled his bowl with the hot soup as well, and when Shinki's plate was full he sat back and waited for Momoko to finish her own.

The amount of food was the most Shinki had seen before, cooked well and still steaming, and Shinki stared at it all with pursed lips. It made him feel uneasy, sitting at such a full table, and he could not help but speak for the first time since arriving at their home.

"Is there a special occasion?" He asked, hands still tight in his lap.

The adults paused in their eating, both turning a confused eye to him as he shrunk a little lower into his seat. 

"No, there's not," Gaara said, a furrow in his brow, "What makes you think so?" 

The boy's gaze dropped to the table again, "There's a lot." 

The pair of them looked down to the dinner table, to the food spread out on it, and both felt the traces of pity begin to slither into their minds. It was no grand amount of food, just a little less than what they made when Kankuro joined them for dinner. There was nothing especially lavish about it, not in quantity or quality, but in Shinki's eyes it was grand enough to be a celebration, and they shared a look between them that conveyed the mutual feeling his words had brought. A frown came to both of their lips at the exchanged glance, and Momoko was the one to speak this time.

"Are you not hungry?" She asked plainly, shifting the uncomfortable topic with ease.

Shinki did not reply, instead stared silently at her before finally reaching for his chopsticks and beginning to slowly eat. Satisfied, even with his lack of answer, Momoko turned her attention back to Gaara.

Dinner went on as it usually did, filling with subtle chatter about their days and other mundane things. Shinki contributed little to the conversation, as nothing was expected of him, and so he simply listened to them as they ate. He learned just a few things about them from their talk, things he hadn't been privy to before. Of course he knew that Gaara was the Kazekage but he didn't know he had older siblings, one of which lived in Konoha with a son his age and the other was a puppeteer and his advisor. Momoko was in charge of overseeing the new Sunagakure greenhouses (they had been built nearly eight years ago, but they were still referred to as new by the villagers) which grew anything from small crops to medical herbs. This was all public knowledge, Lord and Lady Kazekage being the most important figures in the village and therefore spending a majority of their lives in the public eye, but it was all information Shinki hadn't known before. His attention had always been on less trivial things, like surviving another day or curving the hunger that wracked his body, so he overlooked what others focused on.

"We can look into enrolling you at the shinobi academy once we've determined where you're at. For now, though, you're free to join either of us at work during the day," Gaara offered, ignoring the sharp look Momoko turned his way, "You are allowed to stay here, if you wish. We'll have Kankuro look after you."

Shinki said nothing but did give a displeased frown, unused to being chaperoned and uninterested in the idea of being babysat. It didn't seem as though he had much of a choice in the matter, so he said nothing and the conversation shifted once again.

Being unused to so much access to food, it wasn't long before Shinki was full and unable to eat anything more without risking nausea. The boy sat without a word, still uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in and frustrated at his inability to remedy it. Despite how accommodating they were, offering him food and the closest thing to a home he had ever really had, Shinki could not shake the feeling of being out of place. Though they made pauses in the conversation for him, offered him room to talk if he so wanted to, the boy felt the doubt within him flare bright each time their eyes turned his way.

Something in the back of his mind whispered that it was all a lie, that they were kind now but a little time would prove them to be no better than the rest of the world. They were just waiting until he was comfortable before they turned their backs on him and cast him aside like he was nothing, because that's what they must have thought he was worth: nothing. The thought made an uncomfortable feeling rise within him, one that threatened to drag him down should he dwell on it a moment longer, and Shinki couldn't help but grip tightly to the fabric of his pants.

"Shinki," Gaara called, and within a moment the boy was pulled back to the surface and out of the darkness of his thoughts, "You can go to bed, if you want. You don't have to sit here until we finish."

He stared up at the Kazekage, at the kind eyes and small, reassuring smile, and it took every ounce of strength within him to ignore the mistrust that screamed in his ear. Without a word the boy nodded and Gaara rose from his seat to show him to his room. Shinki stared at his dishes but Gaara waved him off, reassuring him that they would take care of them, and the boy rose to his feet to follow Gaara out of the room.

Shinki paused in the doorway, looking back at Momoko as she took a drink of her tea. The woman did not look at him, to the solemn gleam in his dark eyes and the tension in his shoulders, and offered him little more than a nod.

"Goodnight, Shinki," She said, more a pleasantry than anything else, and Shinki left without a word.

Gaara led him down the halls of the house, passing hanging pictures that Shinki paid little mind to as he only saw their faces as well as many others he didn't recognize. It was the first sort of decoration he had seen in the whole space; the house was the nicest he had ever been in, traditional in style but a little more luxurious than most homes, but still rather bland. There was no more furniture than was needed, no décor aside from these pictures and the occasional rug. It both did and didn't fit the pair of them, but Shinki didn't think much of it as Gaara showed him through the house.

He pointed out the bathroom as well as his own office, gesturing to the doors as he led the boy down the hall. Finally he stopped before a closed door and opened it for him, allowing Shinki to step in first.

"We can change some things if they're not to your liking," Gaara offered, "But I hope this is good enough for now."

Once again Shinki thought this may have been some sort of cruel joke as he looked over the spare bedroom, but there were no signs of such from Gaara. There was a full sized bed in the center of the room, as well as a dresser against the opposite wall and a small desk pushed under a large window that looked out to the small courtyard of the home. Just as the rest of the house, it was sparsely decorated and had little more excitement than the pale crème of it's walls, but it was still far more than Shinki was used to.

"Is it alright?" Gaara asked in his silence, Shinki offering him little as he stared into the room with slightly widened eyes.

The boy finally gave a nod, small and barely more than a shift of his head, but it was enough to reassure Gaara.

"Our room is at the end of the hall," He offered, moving to the closest to grab the extra blankets from inside, "Don't hesitate to come get us if you need anything."

Once again the boy was silent but Gaara didn't mind. Shinki stepped forward and laid a hesitant hand on the quilt that covered the bed and Gaara watched as he set the blankets on the end of it. The sight made him frown, the look on Shinki's face something akin to a tense disbelief, but he refused to meet his eye and so he did not push him further.

When Shinki shook his head at the inquiry of needing anything else, Gaara headed to the door to leave and return to dinner but paused just in the doorway. He watched the child, who still stood as stiff as a statue beside the bed, and spoke his last peace of the night.

"I'm glad you're here, Shinki," Gaara told the boy sincerely, "And she's too stubborn to say so, but Momoko is, too."

The boy said nothing in return and so Gaara bid him good night before slipping out of the room.

Shinki stood there for a little while longer before finally pulling himself out of his own thoughts long enough to move again. He rounded the bed to the side closer to the window and sat against it, feeling incredibly small in the middle of the largest bed he had ever been in, and a part of him couldn't help but feel a little pathetic for it. It was just a bed, just a whole room to himself and a full belly, and yet here he felt the back of his eyes begin to sting. It made him more angry than anything, and the boy wiped aggressively at his eyes before any tears could really surface. With a huff he turned to the window, glaring first out to the moon before something in the courtyard caught his eye.

He stood from the bed and moved closer, pressing his hands to the window as he peered out to the strange structure that shined in the moonlight. It looked like it was made entirely of glass and yet he could hardly see inside. It didn't take up too much space in the courtyard but it stood proudly and prettily in the sand. Shinki had never seen such a strange little building before and for a while he simply stood, admiring the way the rays of the moon hit the glass and made it nearly glow. There was something about it he couldn't quite place, something that told him this was an intimate secret that he shouldn't know about, but he couldn't help the curiosity that bloomed inside of him at the sight of it. The young boy did not deny himself the pleasure of memorizing every corner and edge of the small structure and he stood there far longer than he intended.

When Shinki finally decided to sleep that night he did so with his back to the door and his gaze out the window. The last sight he saw before he closed his eyes being the pretty little house of glass in the courtyard.


	5. Glass and Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!! I loooove you!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope to hear your feedback!

"Hey, Slinki!" Kankuro called from the living room and the child appeared in the doorway with a displeased frown on his lips.

"Shinki." He corrected him, and the man waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah- hand me those nails, would ya?" Kankuro gestured with his shoulder to the box sitting on the table beside the couch, where he sat with his hands full of the small puppet in his lap. He had spent the afternoon tweaking with the small mechanisms inside of it, ignoring him completely, much to Shinki's pleasure.

It had been nearly a week since Shinki first arrived and still the house felt like little more than a temporary place for him. Meals were silent on his end and he was excused the moment he finished. Gaara had given him access to the books in his study and so Shinki ventured out of his room in the early mornings to select new reads before shutting himself away once again. Neither of them tried to coax him out, as Gaara was patient and his wife still hesitant to interact, and so it had been a quiet and rather uneventful time.

That was, however, until their weekly therapy appointment came around and Kankuro barged in through the front door.

He was every bit what Gaara had warned him to be, ("Loud, and a bit...obnoxious.") and didn't fit his 'Lord' title in the slightest. Kankuro had bid the two a noisy farewell before plopping down on the couch and pulling the puppet he worked on now out of the tool box he lugged in with him. He had called for Shinki- or Slinki, Stinki, Swinki- no less than five times already, and if it weren't for the obligation he felt towards the couple who had taken him in, Shinki wouldn't have helped him a single time.

With a huff, the boy all but marched forward and snatched the box off the table, holding it within reach for Kankuro who managed to shift things around for just a moment so he could grab a couple of nails from the box. Shinki went to put it back down and return to the spare room, but Kankuro had other plans.

"Stay here a sec," He grunted, fixated on the puppet, "This may take a minute."

Shinki gave a heavy sigh but Kankuro paid him little mind, his focus being entirely on the puppet he was trying to piece together. With the adult's attention elsewhere and a task that kept him in place, Shinki begrudgingly settled for looking around the room as means of some sort of entertainment. He was quickly disappointed, as this room was just as unfortunately decorated as the rest, and he was nearly ready to drop the box in Kankuro's lap before something sitting on the table the nails were on caught his eye.

At first he didn't realize it was Momoko, thinking perhaps the picture was just of friends they liked enough to have their photo, but the longer he stared the more he realized that it was a younger version of his caretaker. She was hugging a pink-haired woman that Shinki didn't recognize, the smile on her lips so wide it looked like it hurt and her eyes bright with a happiness he had never known before. There were no scars that marked her skin, no kanji carved into her forehead, her arms were bear of any intimidating ink, and blonde waves flowed down her back like a curtain of pale gold. It was a stark difference from the haunted stares and pursed lips Shinki had become acquainted with, and the boy couldn't help but stare.

"Hard to believe it's her, huh?"

Kankuro's words pulled Shinki from his thoughts, but when he turned to him he found that he was also staring at the picture of her with a look on his face that the boy wasn't old enough to recognize. He let go of the puppet to reach out and grab the picture, bringing it closer for the both of them to see.

"It's one of the only pictures left from back then," He said, a fondness in his words as he looked over her smile.

Shinki could not help his natural curiosity, and so he found himself asking before giving it much thought, "What happened?"

"Something bad," Kankuro sighed vaguely, puppet all but forgotten, "Something you're too young to understand."

Despite how the words angered him (if there was one thing he hated, it was being held back by his age), Shinki smothered the feeling and instead tried again. It was one thing to ask Gaara or Momoko directly, as he was too stubborn to admit his curiosity and it was embarrassing to show, but another to find information from other sources.

"Is that why they go to therapy?" The boy questioned, glancing down to happy blue eyes.

"Yeah, more or less," Kankuro confirmed before setting the picture back on the table, his hand lingering for just a moment before pulling away, "It works well enough, I guess. Prefer that to the dancing shit they do."

"The what?"

"There's a little radio in the kitchen, sometimes they dance- it's gross," He grumbled, suddenly focused on the puppet again, "Consider yourself lucky you haven't seen it. I walked in one time and nearly lost my breakfast."

Perhaps it wasn't so crude, but it was not a fond memory in Kankuro's mind. He had popped in to borrow something from Gaara when he came across them in the kitchen, music in the air and soft laughter filling the house. They weren't good at it by any means, stumbling over feet and stepping on toes, but the smiles on their faces had been the brightest he had seen in years. It was a rare moment of genuine happiness with no burden of the past or dark clouds hanging over their heads, just a husband and wife enjoying the love that still burned bright between them.

It had made Kankuro feel the same way he had when he heard they were getting married, when he watched them at the altar, and every other instance that pulled her further and further out of reach. Usually it was easy to ignore the dull ache that always gripped at his heart since it did mean his brother was happy, but seeing them in great moments of happiness always tore away some part of his soul that he would never get back. What was wonderful for them usually haunted him but they had long since passed the time of change. All he could do now was take what he could get and try not to dwell too long on what was forever out of reach.

"Why do they do that?" Shinki asked, pulling Kankuro from his bitter thoughts.

"You know, you're asking a whole lot of questions that they could answer," Kankuro said, grabbing another nail from the box the child was still holding, "That's the really cool thing about actually talking to people: you get to know them." 

The boy grunted, glaring down at the puppet in Kankuro's hands. He didn't want to admit to his hesitation, to the fear that always gnawed at him when he was near the two of them. Shinki wasn't used to being looked after or provided for, and the worry that all of it would be taken away at some point held him back. Maybe he didn't want to get to know them for fear that they would be gone soon, too. He still couldn't shake the feeling that all of this was temporary, that one false move or one wrong word was all it would take for them to change their minds and send him away. It may have only been a week but the memories of a full belly and thick sheets would be too hard to forget.

Eventually his assistance was no longer needed and so Shinki returned to the quiet of the spare room. He was content to simply go back to the desk and resume the book he had left but as soon as Shinki stepped through the threshold, he didn't like the idea of quiet as much as he had before. It made him hesitate, a frown on his lips as he glanced back down the hall to where he knew Kankuro was still working on his puppet.

For a reason he couldn't quite place, Kankuro was easier to talk to than Momoko or Gaara. Maybe it was because he didn't play such an important part in his upkeep, or maybe it was just because he didn't seem to care, but there was something about his aloofness that put Shinki at ease, if only a little. He was every bit as loud and obnoxious as Gaara had warned, but it was a change from the usual coolness of the house.Kankuro talked to him as he would any other adult or child, and Shinki reluctantly found himself collecting the book from his desk and heading back to the living room.

Without a word the boy sat on in the armchair across from him and picked up his reading, and though Kankuro didn't look up, a smile spread on his painted lips. Together they sat in silence, Shinki with his book and Kankuro with his puppet, but it was comfortable and neither made move to leave it.

It wasn't very long later before Gaara and Momoko came home, looking far more tired than when they had left and far less optimistic. Shinki glanced up from his book, watching the pair of them trudge through the front door and into the quiet home. Momoko looked ready to say something to Kankuro, but suddenly noticed Shinki had decided to join him in the living room and the words died on her lips.

She moved past the two of them and disappeared into the hallway, Gaara taking a seat beside his brother with a heavy sigh. He too noticed Shinki's presence in the living room and though it made him smile just slightly, it did not completely remedy the weariness in his eyes.

"These things get longer every time, huh?" Kankuro offered, nudging his brother's shoulder with a smile.

"Sometimes it does feel that way, doesn't it?" Gaara said, failing to convince them of the good mood he pretended to have.

Shinki turned back to his book, tuning out the two of them until it came time for Kankuro to leave. He collected his tools and packed away his puppets and just before he left he made sure to stop and ruffle Shinki's hair, much to the boy's displeasure.

"Remind me to bring you some of my face paint, yeah? Whatever you're using now isn't working for you."

Shinki huffed, ducking his head away from the hand that messed up his already unruly hair, and Kankuro snickered at the boy's angry sneer.

"I'll catch ya next time, Shinki!"

It was the first time he had gotten his name right and Shinki stared after him as he took his leave. It left just him and Gaara alone, sitting in the silence of the living room, and once again he felt that uneasiness he sometimes did around him.

When Gaara was near all he could think about was how he had taken him into his embrace when they first met, ignoring the injuries he had caused for the sake of holding him close. He couldn't remember a time when anyone else had held him the way Gaara did that day: like he was really there at all. Shinki didn't know how to react then and he still didn't know now. For all he knew it could have all been a lie from the start, a pretty illusion the Kazekage had created to get his trust and soon the rug would be taken out from under him. They were the same thoughts that always plagued his mind when he was near either of them and it made Shinki sink further down into his seat.

"I trust Kankuro wasn't too horrible," Gaara said, breaking through the silence between them.

At first Shinki had no intention of talking but then words Kankuro had said echoed back through his mind like an old record, and it made him pause in his reading.

That's the really cool thing about actually talking to people: you get to know them.

It took every ounce of courage within the young boy to silence the doubt that screamed in his ear, and with an uncomfortable shifting in his seat he found strength for the very first time to continue a conversation that Gaara started.

"He was...as you said he could be." Shinki replied, eyes fixated down on the printed words in his lap.

He didn't see Gaara perk up just a little, some of the tiredness from their appointment ebbing away at the first reply Shinki had ever really given him. It made the Kazekage sit just a little straighter in his chair, watching the young boy who still didn't meet his eyes.

"Loud?" He said with hardly suppressed fondness.

"Obnoxious."

Gaara cracked a smile, perhaps the first real one of the day, and he settled back against the couch with his arms folded comfortably across his chest.

"He lacks in poise what he makes up for in good intent," Gaara said, and Shinki's gaze shifted from the book to the small picture that sat on the table.

He followed the boy's eyes and saw the photo of Momoko and Sakura. It was a picture Momoko had gotten from her friend, as Sakura knew well that most of the pictures from her life had been lost in the fire, and so she was more than willing to give up some of her own. Sakura had jokingly placed it there in the living room when she visited their home for the first time, back when it was new and full of potential, and neither Momoko nor Gaara saw any reason to move it. So there it had stayed all these years: a happy memory captured in film and glass.

Shinki's gaze shifted from the photo and to Gaara, who's tender eyes were on the smile behind the glass, and somewhere in the back his mind pieced together that he had seen this look hardly an hour ago. Gaara looked at the picture the same way Kankuro did (or did Kankuro look at it the same way Gaara did?), with an affection he was too young to understand. It was the way he always looked at Momoko, either from across the dinner table or when they kissed goodbye in the mornings: like she was the only one there, like the picture was of her alone.

"Who is that?" Shinki managed to ask, more so for the conversation than actual curiosity to know. He was still feeling the push to talk and even if it was mindless, he wouldn't let it go to waste.

"Sakura Haruno." Gaara replied, "She's Momoko's best friend, they grew up together in Konoha." 

"Konoha?" Shinki asked, looking to the frame again. He seemed to notice for the first time the trees in the background, alive and green, and buildings he didn't recognize, "Why is she here?"

"She came to start her flower shop, a long time ago." The Kazekage recalled fondly, but soon the memory of it's end plagued his mind and took the pleasantness from the thought.

"A flower shop?" The boy repeated, a furrow coming to his dark brow. It made Gaara smile and force away the taste of ash that threatened to sting his tongue.

"You look the same way everyone else did back then," Gaara hummed, "It seems like a stretch, I know, but it did very well while it was around. Momoko knows soil better than she knows herself."

Never mind the fact that she hadn't gardened in years, that no flowers had bloomed or plants had grown by her hands in over a decade. She may have overlooked the greenhouses but she did not do any of the gardening herself, instead giving instructions to the hired hands and managing the supplies needed to cultivate the crops. It was another part of her that had died that day, as she could only see flames in her eyes and hear glass popping in her ears the moment she put hands to soil.

Shinki wanted to press further, ask why the shop was no longer around and what had happened to put such a dark shadow in Gaara's eyes at the memory of it, but he knew better than to ask. Kankuro had already denied him the knowledge once tonight and he wasn't interested in being told he was too young for a second time.

"I didn't know she gardened." Shinki mumbled, more to himself than Gaara, but the man heard it anyway.

"She doesn't anymore, I'm afraid." Gaara sighed, "I get more use out of the greenhouse than she does."

The words made Shinki perk up a bit, finally meeting Gaara's eyes for the first time that night. He didn't want to come across as too eager but couldn't help the curiosity he felt at the connection his mind had made to the little glass house in the courtyard. Every night he had fallen asleep staring at it, at the moon on its surface and the shadowed contents within, and now it seemed as though he would finally understand why it was there in the first place.

"Is that what that is?" Shinki asked, curiosity getting the better of him, "The little house in the courtyard?"

It made Gaara smile, seeing something more than cold indifference on the boy's face, and he nodded pleasantly.

"Yes," He confirmed, "I had it built for Momoko when we got married, but she never uses it. I cultivate cacti when I can but my thumb isn't nearly as green as hers."

Shinki nodded without a word, his thoughts beginning to trail off as he pondered the greenhouse. He would have never guessed that's what it was; then again, he didn't have any very good ideas of what it could be. Curious as he was, Shinki never ventured out into the courtyard to check it out for himself. Every time he considered it he always paused, feeling once again as though it was something not meant for his eyes, and so he kept himself behind windows and simply stared during the night.

As though thinking very similar thoughts, Gaara offered to him, "We could go look at it, if you'd like. It isn't too dark yet."

The sun had just barely started to fall from the sky, coating the boring room in soft orange light that poured in through the window. Shinki wouldn't deny himself his own curiosity; it was one thing to go out on his own, but another altogether if Gaara offered the chance to him. With a small, almost uncertain nod the Kazekage stood from his seat and Shinki set his book aside before moving to follow. Together the pair of them moved through the house and to the glass door on the other side of the kitchen, which Gaara held open for them as they stepped out onto the small porch that bordered the courtyard.

The greenhouse looked almost as pretty at sunset as it did at night, the dying sun bouncing off the surfaces and the glass seeming as though it absorbed the warmth of the light. Gaara smiled at the sight of it, affectionately placing a hand on the metal frame of the door before opening it to Shinki's curious eyes.

Their shoes clicked against the stone of the floor, the sound echoing off the glass walls that enclose the almost empty space. Air here was stale, as though it had never been breathed by a living thing before now. It felt alarmingly like a shell of a place rather than a place itself. Along one wall were shelves filled to the brim with empty pots, tools, and sealed bags of soil, and along the opposite were wooden flower beds that hardly reached Shinki's knee. There was a long table pushed up against the back wall and there he could see the cacti Gaara had mentioned, healthy and obviously well loved.

It smelled like earth, thanks to the soil that sat untouched within the flower beds, and it was so unfamiliar to Shinki that he couldn't tell if he liked it or not. Rarely did he encounter actual dirt, so used to the sand that covered Suna, that he wasn't entirely sure what to make of this new substance. Without a word, or asking, he stepped forward and placed his hands into one of the flower beds, feeling his fingers almost sink into the cool soil.

Gaara watched silently, observing the child as he closed his eyes and simply felt the material under his fingers. With some satisfaction he noticed the tension that seemed to ease from the boy's face, how his shoulders dropped just slightly at the feel of the cool earth in his hands. It reminded him of Momoko and how she used to look during the afternoons they spent together in her shop, the smile that would come to her lips as she showed him how to replant crowded flowers or refill old soil. Even though he himself had never been especially inclined to gardening, Gaara would appreciate the tranquility that came with feeling the earth between your fingers.

For a reason he couldn't quite place, Shinki took an instant liking to the greenhouse. It was quiet and calm, and felt like it's own little world of glass and dirt. The boy opened his eyes and looked up to Gaara, who still watched him even when he withdrew his hands and stood straight again, and then turned once more to the cacti. They were the only burst of green within the whole structure and Shinki could not help but wonder how the color would look all over. That's what this place was for, afterall, to be filled with plants and life.

For not the first time that evening, Shinki heard Kankuro's voice in his head telling him to talk, to know, and once again he found the strength not to silence it completely as his gaze flickered to Gaara again.

"What is cultivating?" Shinki asked after a moment, and the smile that came to Gaara's lips was so kind he had to look away.

"Here, I'll show you."


	6. Days Like These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here’s the next chapter with a little bit of a TW attached so heads up! Thank you for reading and I hope to hear your feedback! 
> 
> ***TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attacks***

_"I was against even telling you at all, but the duties of my job do not allow me to withhold information from you."_

_He went silent again, and it was clear that he was holding out to say whatever it was that he had come to. The old doctor removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, his brow furrowing as he took just a moment to collect himself before he finally spoke again in a thick tone._

_"Miss. Akiyama, were you...were you aware that you were pregnant?"_

The sound of the curtain sliding open brought her back to the world all at once, made her aware of how cold the water that pelted down on her had gotten and how much the skin of her hands had begun to prune. If Gaara noticed, he didn't comment, and for that she was thankful. Instead he pressed a kiss to her wet shoulder and reached around her to adjust the temperature of the water back to something more comfortable.

"Good morning," He said, tone still thick with sleep.

Momoko glanced back at him, still feeling a little disconnected from the world, but managed a smile as her husband ran his fingers through her wet hair. 

"Morning," She replied, closing her eyes at the feel of it. He gave a small hum in return, his fingers disappearing for a moment before returning covered with shampoo, and without another word he began to lather her hair in it.

Momoko sighed at the feel of it, bowing her head a little to give him better access to her scalp. It was a routine they knew well when it came to mornings like these: when Momoko woke up with a start and rose before Gaara even had a chance to wake up. Usually they waited until the other was awake before moving out from the warmth of their bed but some mornings started off a little less pleasant than others. It was just a part of life, a part of their life, and on days like these one of them picked up where the other fell short.

Gaara guided her back a few steps into the stream of water and she stared down at the suds as they ran down her body and then slipped through the drain. He carded his hands through her hair, content to let her collect herself as he took on the simple task of washing her hair.

"The gingko should be ready to harvest soon," He commented, watching the wet blonde strands slip through his fingers, "Do you know when?"

Momoko finally looked up to him, to the patience in his pale eyes and the wrinkles that time had folded around them, and found it within herself to answer.

"The first batch should be ready today, I think," Momoko replied, grateful for the distraction from the words that still rattled through her mind.

"That's good," Gaara said with a small smile, "It sounds like you'll have your hands full today, then."

That was reassuring, if only a little. A busy day meant hardly any time to think, to ponder on the thoughts that had begun flooding her mind more so lately than usual. It wasn't too unheard of for a few things to slip through her resolve once in a while, memories to flood through on their own accord, but lately it had felt as though there was hardly anything stopping the sour thoughts that weighed her down. She didn't want to _blame_ any one thing, per say, but Momoko had a very good idea as to what had made her more sensitive in these last two weeks.

"Shinki and I will begin his training today," Gaara commented after shifting them so that he could finally stand under the water, "You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

_From what we could tell, it was a girl._

"No," Momoko replied, unable to meet his gaze as she reached for the shampoo just as he had a few moments ago, "Thank you."

He did not push further, instead watched her silently as she returned the favor of rubbing the suds through his hair. On a better day she would style it with the soap, comment on how handsome it'd look if he wore it completely slicked back or giggle over how silly it was when she pressed it up into a mohawk. However, the feeling in his gut that had formed since the moment he woke up to an empty bed told him that there would be no such playfulness. In fact, if the distant look in her eyes and slow work of her fingers was anything to go by, Gaara had a feeling it wasn't going to be a very good day at all.

Once they were clean and a little bit of the world had come back to her, the pair of them exited the shower and began their day. It was mostly silent between the two, a common occurrence now that they weren't the only ones in the house and didn't want to risk waking Shinki. It seemed as though he wasn't asleep at all, however, because he joined them only moments after Gaara finished making breakfast.

"Good morning, Shinki," Gaara greeted him, already setting a plate before the boy.

To Momoko's surprise, he nodded and said, "Good morning,"

It made her pause, mug halfway raised to her lips as she glanced up from the paper she was reading at the table and to the child sitting across from her. But as she looked at him for the first time that morning, for a moment she didn't see Shinki at all.

For a moment there was long crimson hair and freckled cheeks, a demure smile and eyes like her own staring back. It made every part of Momoko come to a cold halt, the grip on the paper tightening so much that it tore within her grasp. 

_What would we have named her?_

With a start Momoko stood up from her chair, setting the mug on the table as the two of them peered at her in curiosity.

"I should go," She mumbled, folding the ruined paper with hands that shook just slightly, "Busy day,"

"Momoko-"

Before Gaara could get out anything more than her name, she was gone from the room and slipping out the front door with a bag in hand.

Sometimes it felt as though the world up and carried on without her, like it didn't care at all if she was still following as it kept turning and turning; sometimes, it felt like she was carrying on without her. As she stood outside of the front door, trying to calm her racing heart and sooth the anxiousness that began to creep up the back of her throat, Momoko could not help but feel like she wasn't entirely here today. It felt as though she had taken a step back and stayed standing before the front door of her home, gripping at the knob as though she had every intention of going back inside, and yet her body took a step forward and began to carry her through the quiet streets of Suna.

It was still early, with the sun just barely in the sky and the air still a little cool from the night before, and few people littered the streets. She was grateful for it, though, as too many people would have made her feel even more discombobulated than she already did. Fewer people meant fewer forced smiles as they bowed their heads in respect, fewer conversations she had to pretend to be interested in, _fewer children_ _in the streets_.

Shinki had said good morning- he had never done that before. Usually there was a quiet nod, a glance of acknowledgment, maybe just the slightest passing of respect when Gaara greeted him in the morning. But today there was a greeting and something dangerously close to a smile on his lips as he sat down beside her husband at the table. She thought back to just a few nights ago, when she had seen Gaara and Shinki leaving the greenhouse through the window of their room, and wondered if maybe something had come out of that interaction that made the boy just a little more at ease in their home.

Though a part of her was still tense, another part couldn't help but be glad. It had been just over two weeks now of cold detachment, as though Shinki considered them to be little more than temporary guardians before he moved on to the next place. To see him relax, if only enough to offer a good morning, made some part of Momoko relax as well. She may not have been the most welcoming, may not have known how to act just yet or what to think of the boy, but she was glad he had begun to find at least some comfort within the quiet walls of their home. 

Momoko passed through the market in a haze, her eyes straining to fixate on the path before her and not drift to the lot she knew so well. They had made it a point to live a little ways off from the market, closer to the Kazekage Tower in the nicer part of the village, but the greenhouses lay on the outskirts and so walking through here was unavoidable. Most days she was able to distract herself as she passed by the duly colored building and instead force herself to focus on anything else, anything that kept her mind away from the ghosts that crept in.

This morning, however, her resolve was not as strong and her thoughts were horribly cluttered with the past, and so she could not find the strength within herself to keep going without looking.

The rubble and ashes had long since been cleaned up and a new shop was built in place of the one that had been burnt down. It wasn't painted any bright color, no lush wreath or pretty wood door with intricate carvings. The sign did not read _The Flower Girl_ as it once had, instead there was just a plainly styled _Sunagakure Stationary_ in its place. There were no flowers here, no green leaves seen through the window or bouquets lined against the closest wall; the fire had taken all life from this place, life that could not be brought back no matter what was built on top of the ashes.

When she closed her eyes Momoko could still see the line out the door, smell the perfumed aroma of her blooms as it flooded out into the street around her shop. She could feel soil beneath her fingers, could hear the bell above her door give a happy chime whenever someone came in. It almost made her smile: remembering the radiance her shop had brought to the world. Momoko could remember how full the small shop would be on busy days, how many flowers lined the shelves, how easy it was to open the windows from the outside, how the smell of burning plants made her nose sting, how the glass windows popped from the heat of the flames, how the dull blade sawed through her hair, how-

_I'm so sorry._

"Momoko?"

When she opened her eyes she was at the greenhouse, standing just outside of its doors with her bag held so tightly in her hands it made the skin of her knuckles nearly translucent. Without any knowledge of her own Momoko had ended up here, body moving on as her mind stayed standing before what was once hers. It felt like the world was on ruined film, lagging in some places and then hurrying to catch up with itself; she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach that no amount of busy work would make today more bearable.

"Good morning, Hana," She managed to greet the woman, who perked up with a smile as her friend finally seemed to come back to the world, if only a little.

"Tough morning, huh?"

"Something like that."

Once again, everything moved as Momoko stayed still. She could feel herself handling clipboards and signing off on orders, could hear her own voice as she directed gardeners and shipments, but it was all so very far away. Rarely did this disconnect become so vast and as the day dragged on around her, Momoko contemplated why.

It was Shinki- there was no doubt in her mind. Maybe it wasn't so much he himself as it was what he is: a child, one who reminded her of Gaara, one who stopped and looked over his shoulder at the greenhouse with a gaze she knew all too well. It felt nearly impossible to look at the boy and not see everything he wasn't, not feel as though they were making a mockery of the one they had lost by trying to fill the space she left.It felt like wearing a shirt three sizes too large; it fit, but not in the ways it should have.

She knew it was cruel of her to think like this: that Shinki wasn't theirs, would never be even a fraction of what she could have been, but Momoko couldn't help it. Twelve years had passed and yet she could still feel the hollowness in her womb and the void in her heart left by a child long since dead. No matter the therapy they went to or the sweet words Gaara would whisper in her ear, Momoko was still painfully aware of everything this life lacked. Sure, they had made what they could out of their loss, but even then it still wasn't what it could have once been.

None of that was Shinki's fault though, the quiet voice of reason in her mind struggled to speak out through the turmoil. He was just a child who didn't deserve her scorn or her bitterness, who had no concept of the place he filled or the weight that sat on their shoulders. Shinki had no one in this world that he could even bring himself to smile in front of; two weeks and only now had he managed a _good morning._ Scars that were so much like her own marred his skin and his eyes were just a few lights away from nearly dead. He was so young and yet so hurt, and Momoko's coldness was likely no help to that.

Sometimes throughout the day she would come back around and when that happened she became painfully aware of the chill that seemed to crawl across her skin and the constant hammering of her heart in her chest. Each beat ached, sounding in her ears like a drum to an upbeat song. Hana had pointed out that her hands were shaking, too; Momoko tried to brush it off- didn't her hands always shake?

It was entirely unfair of her to hold him to standards he wasn't even aware of. He probably felt so lonely already, hardly knowing them or the place he now found himself in. They had taken him off the streets, sat him in a sterile hospital, then nudged him into their home with hardly any time to realize the change as it was happening.

_Is there a special occasion?  
_

And she had been cold to him, hadn't given him the decency of conversation or even a glance his way. She didn't regard his presence when he entered rooms even though she could feel his eyes on her from time to time, saw how he stopped in the doorway before he left the room just in case she wanted to say something to him, and yet she still hardly offered him anything more than the bare minimum- perhaps even less.

_He's just a child, Momoko. The least you could do is smile._

No wonder he hardly spoke to them or didn't feel comfortable in their home; Momoko hadn't even attempted to ease him. She had told him that they would try and yet the moment they entered their home she had cut herself away and kept her back to him all the while.

It felt hard to breath, like her chest had grown tight and the air in the greenhouses had thinned. Something in the back of her mind flashed in warning, tried to tell her to listen to what her body was saying but she pushed it aside for the sake of focusing on the herbs and shipments.

_Come on Peaches, ease up a little, will ya? It's a kid, not a snake._

She had always wanted a family; since the moment she was old enough to imagine a life for herself Momoko had pictured an affectionate spouse and dazzling children. She had half of that dream already: a husband who adored her and who she loved more than anything else. Loving Gaara was as wonderful as it was medicinal, healing her in ways she once thought it never would again.

The palms of her hands were clammy; the pen slipped right through her fingers and she let it clatter to the floor beneath her. Maybe the air really was thinner in here?

Gaara was everything he should be and then some; sometimes it made her feel selfish to want more when he had already provided her with so much.

_Is this enough?_

"Momoko!"

The hand just barely landed on her shoulder before Momoko had the wrist in her hand and twisted it behind the woman's back. The gardener cried out at the feeling of near cracking under Momoko's grip and the shooting pain up the length of her arm.

"I-I'm sorry!" The woman cried out, jerking in Momoko's iron hold, "I-I was calling your name and you didn't answer a-and I-!"

Her words leveled Momoko's head all at once and with a shaky breath she let the woman go as though the touch burned her skin. Her heart was hammering in her ears, the blood rushing through her veins so quickly it almost made her nauseous. All at once the world was catching up with itself again, the film scratching and the gap between her and reality widening further with each second.

_Momoko, please! Please just hold on!_

The sound of Gaara's voice screaming in her ears came so suddenly it startled her, adding chaos to the storm that already thundered inside of her. A few other gardeners had rushed at the sound of the woman's panicked cry and they were talking to her but their voices were lost amongst the shouting that pounded against her ears.

_This bitch giving you trouble?_

Her hands were shaking so hard it made her fingers feel numb, the cold sweat that broke across her skin already making her clothes stick to her and the constricting feeling of it was overwhelming.

_You really are lovely, Momoko. Such a pity that it should go to waste._

She knew this feeling all too well; what it meant to have hands that shook like this, the pounding in her heart and the shortness of breath. It had happened so many times before, but not for years now. Momoko hadn't felt such a panic like this in a long time but she still knew it by heart, knew it well enough that she needed to go home, now, and that she needed Gaara.

"I-I-I have to go home," She managed to say, deaf to any of the frantic words being spoken to her, "I-I have to go,"

Once again her feet were moving but she wasn't, her mind and whole being plunged into chaos as she hurried through the greenhouses past worried coworkers and confused help. The village passed through her eyes but she didn't see it, people called out to her but she didn't hear it. With every step it felt like her knees would buckle in and she prayed through the panic that she could stay collected just long enough to make it home. 

_It's not Gaara that has to die- it's you._

There were tears streaming down her cheeks but she hardly noticed them amongst everything else that swarmed inside of her. There was no thought of the people who stared after her, the citizens who called out to her, the buildings she passed- all she could think of was getting home and to Gaara, to ease the anxiety that threatened to swallow her whole.

By the time she slammed through the front door she could hardly breath, her skin drenched with cold sweat and her hands all but numb. The house was empty, both Gaara and Shinki still gone and not expected back for a while longer, and the thought of being alone through this made her already rapid breathing pick up. 

"G-Get Gaara!" She cried out through labored breath, stumbling through the home, "Now!"

She felt the familiar feeling of sand twirling a strand of hair between it's grains before the touch vanished, scurrying out of the house as she tried her hardest to collect herself.

Momoko needed to breathe; her therapist said that the first thing she needed to do was calm the hyperventilation and try to level her head. Almost blinded by the tears she stumbled through their home, bracing herself against the wall as she tried her hardest to focus on both getting breath in her lungs and getting to the bathroom. Cold water helped sometimes- if she could just distract herself with that until Gaara got home, maybe she could just-

_For what it's worth, I wish it had been someone else._

This was worse than the ones previous; this one came with more memories and louder voices, and if she thought too hard on it she could feel each scar across her skin as though they were being carved in that second. She burst through the bathroom door and steadied herself on the sink, clammy hands trying to grab at the knobs despite the fact she had lost all feeling in her fingers. Her vision was clouded entirely with the tears that now dripped down into the sink but _finally_ she managed to turn on the water.

The cold against her face didn't help like it used to, didn't calm the panting or silence the memories. The first time did nothing, and neither did the second or third or fourth times either. Again and again she tried to find comfort in the water, until the front of her shirt was drenched and the hair around her face was soaked. Frustrated and anxious she clung to the sides of the sink, trying to even out her breathing but forgetting all the steps to do so.

It was just a glance, but Momoko made the mistake of looking up into the mirror and once her eyes locked on her reflection, she couldn't look away. All she could see was the kanji poorly carved into her forehead, the scars littered across her cheeks and over her lips, the silver strands that ran through her dull hair, the haunted look in her misty eyes-

_I hope they have your eyes._

That brought her to her knees just as the front door swung open and slammed against the wall.

"Momoko!"

The sound of his voice helped far more than the water ever had as she clung to the sink like it was her last lifeline. She heard steps sounding through the house, registered somewhere in her mind that it was more than just Gaara here, but that didn't matter at all at this moment.

"G-Gaara," She sobbed out, reaching for him with a trembling hand when he finally appeared at the end of the hallway, "G-Gaara,"

He was to her before his name even left her lips for a second time, kneeling before her with his own worry bright in his eyes.

"It's alright, I'm here," Gaara soothed her, his tone straining to remain even as he laid gentle hands on her shoulders, "Momoko, I'm here,"

_I-I'm going to take you home, Momoko, just hold on._

"I-I can't-"

"Just focus on me, okay? Just focus on me."

She could feel the way his hands trembled as he kept a loose grip on her but even if he was worried, Gaara did a damn good job of staying calm. Always the more leveled of the two, always making up for what she lacked; Momoko focused on pale green as she gripped tightly to the front of his Kazekage robes.

"Lord Gaara?"

She was so unkind to him and yet Shinki still stood just a few feet from the door with something dangerously close to worry in his words. The sound of them tore another sob from her lips, guilt mingling with the anxiety as she curled into Gaara's chest. Momoko was ashamed, the thought crashed into her so quickly it halted her breathing entirely for a moment.

"D-D-Don't let him see me like this," Momoko struggled to say through her tears, "D-Don-t-"

"Shinki," Gaara called, looking over his shoulder to the young boy who cautiously stood in the hallway, using his body to shield his wife from sight, "Go to your room, please."

"But she-"

"She'll be okay," The Kazekage reassured him and if it hadn't been for the way Momoko's whole body shook, he would have appreciated the troubled look in the boy's eye, "Please, go." 

He hesitated just a moment before giving a low nod in return, bowing his head as he left the two of them alone on the bathroom floor. With Shinki gone and Momoko seeming to be soothed just slightly by his presence, Gaara turned the entirety of his focus back on her. Some part of his heart clenched painfully at the sight of her wide and distant eyes, at the way her hands nearly vibrated from the force at which they shook, and how raw the sobs that ripped through her throat were. It had been years since this had happened last and even then it wasn't nearly as bad as now, but seeing Momoko like this would always break some piece of him that would never heal quite right again.

"We need to get up. Can you do that?" He asked, using all his strength not to let his voice break. 

She couldn't manage words anymore but she nodded quickly, the water that soaked her hair splattering across him as she did so. Gaara paid it little mind, instead shifting where they sat on the ground.

"Can I carry you?"

Again, there was only a hurried nod but soon she was up in his arms and together they were out of the bathroom. Gaara tried to focus on just getting her more comfortable for now, in a place where she could cry it all out and regain her breath.

While he carried her Momoko tried her hardest to just focus on Gaara as he had said to do; his scent was always comforting, his cologne like amber and dry cedar but something within it that was uniquely and undoubtable just Gaara. She had said this to him once and it made him smile- she loved his smile. Once they were in the privacy of their own room he set her on the bed and went about taking off her soiled clothes, stopping to ask before each article if he could do so. She let him every time, focusing on long fingers as they undid the buttons of her drenched shirt. How many times had she held these hands?

The tears had slowed (but not completely stopped) and so had her breathing, but there was still a tremor in her hands and nerves crawling up her throat by the time Gaara helped her sit against the headboard under the covers and joined her with an album in hand.

Time dragged on slowly, the day warming at sunset and then cooling at night, and all the while Shinki could not shake the image of her out of his head. She looked like the wounded animals that scurried down alleyways and trembled under the rain. The first emotion he saw from her that wasn't stale neutrality had been violent panic, a kind that made even his own bones rattle. It kept him up through the night, staring at the greenhouse as the sound of her trembling voice rattled though his mind.

_Gaara and I both have things we still struggle to manage, battles we fight every day._

He had expected maybe a few tears, some sour moods, maybe even a shortened temper but this was far more than anything he could have imagined. Not just from Momoko but Gaara as well; the memory of the Kazekage's own panic was seared into his mind. For being the strong leader of the whole village, a feared shinobi, and powerful force to be reckoned with, all it took was a few frantic tugs of his wrist by the sand that guarded him for Gaara's whole resolve to crumble. The pair of them were reduced to so little when it came to each other.

Was that love? Shinki contemplated it as he sat up in bed. It felt too weak, too fragile. Some of the strongest people in the world boasted about the power that came with being loved and the strength behind a meaningful bond, but nothing Shinki had seen today felt like that. When he compared the visible worry on Gaara's face as they hurried home to the look in his eyes when he had Momoko in his arms, it seemed as though he was just as dependent on her as she was on him. That couldn't really be love, could it? 

With a dull ache in his heart, Shinki sneered at himself; as though he would even know. It made him feel cruel, to question the validity of their bond while never even knowing love himself. How could he mock them when he couldn't even begin to understand it in the first place? Shinki had never known love before, had never worried for another person or rushed to be at someone's side. No one had ever looked at him the way Gaara and Momoko looked at each other, or even the way they looked at Kankuro. He had never known love in any of its many forms- who was he to judge them for theirs? 

And yet...yet the feeling in his chest at seeing Gaara's worry was a little too tight. The memory of Momoko's sobs and the way her hands trembled made something within him feel just a little heavier. The boy grabbed at his chest and looked down to it as though he almost expected something to spring out of his flesh and fall right out. Beneath his fingers his heart beat with an ache- especially when he thought of their distress.

Silently, Shinki slipped out of bed and left his room, careful to step lightly through the hallway as he moved towards the soft light that glowed under their bedroom door. Gaara hadn't come to tell him goodnight yet but the sounds of her sobs had died down, and once he was close enough he could hear a quiet conversation behind the door.

He hesitated for a moment, hand resting on the cold metal of the door knob, but soon childish curiosity encouraged him forward and he opened the door as slowly as he could manage. He made sure not to open it too wide, hardly more than a sliver to see through, and Shinki held his breath as he looked on into the warmly lit bedroom.

"Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision on our part."

Her husband's words made Momoko smile weakly as she looked down to the open album before them with tired eyes- even from across the room, Shinki could see the weariness in her gaze.

"We just won't have an open bar the next time we get married," She replied, her voice quiet and strained but still full of a tender affection, "Or we don't invite Kankuro."

The words made Gaara smile, his head leaning a little more against hers from where it sat on his shoulder. Shinki could just barely make out the writing on the front of the book in their hands, the gold-leafed words reading ' _Wedding_ ' each time the dim light caught onto it.

It looked like she had calmed down (Shinki didn't acknowledge the relief he felt) enough to talk again. Even in the calming light, though, it was clear that she still hasn't come back entirely. Her eyes were low and the gentle wrinkles that accented her face seemed a little heavier in this moment. Even Gaara, always the calmer of the two, looked as though this day had been especially hard for him as well. For the first time since Shinki met them, the pair looked every bit their age.

And yet there was a calmness here in the dim room, an unwavering warmth that lingered on as the couple stayed reminiscing on the photos that filled the album nearly to the brim. Their hands were intertwined between them and they leaned against each other as they flipped through happy memories and a time long since passed.

Shinki couldn't help but feel confused as he watched the pair of them talk as though they were just tired from a long day and not recovering from a serious episode. If he hadn't seen what he did earlier today, he may have believed that work had worn them out and nothing more. But he _had_ seen it today: the fear in green eyes and the flood of tears in pale blue. So why could they sit here now like this? Why did the scene he watched still feel comforting, like he had walked in on a tender moment? How could they smile and joke while Momoko's hands still trembled every time she turned a page?

"It's hard to believe it's been ten years already," Momoko sighed softly, "You sure you still like me?"

"I daresay I love you." Her smile stretched to something a little more firm, more real, as Gaara brought their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of her hand, "And you haven't grown tired of me?"

"Not even a little," She replied with barely contained fondness and the smile that came to Gaara's lips was beautiful.

Shinki shifted away from the door but as he did so the floor beneath him gave a quiet creak. It drew their attention, the pair of them perking up a bit as they looked towards the door and Shinki held his breath. He half expected them to call out, maybe even be cross with him, but after a few moments they settled again and Gaara drew the attention back to the book in their laps. With a relieved sigh, Shinki turned away from the door.

"Did Shinki do well today?"

The quiet question made the boy freeze, hardly a few feet from the door and yet her voice was still almost deafening in his ears. The last thing he expected her to say, much less even think, was anything about him. She had shown no signs of warmth, hadn't come around even a little in these last two weeks, and yet here she was after the worst day she's had in years asking about him.

From the short period of silence that followed, Shinki assumed that Gaara was surprised as well.

"Yes," Gaara finally replied, "He did very well."

Again there was more silence and then, quieter than the first time:

"I'm glad."

Again there was that feeling in his chest, too tight and almost an ache but this time it wasn't so horrible. This time it made him feel light, as though some warm and wonderful wind had just passed right through him. It wasn't an answer or a solid explanation, but as Shinki walked back to the spare room he thought he might have understood a little more now.


	7. All My Love, Gaara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, yesterday was a little hectic for me! To make up for it, I made you guys a cute lil picture of the photograph described in this chapter. It's not the best but I hope you like it anyway! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope to hear your feedback!

_Understanding Chakras and Their Uses-_ he had read that one already.

 _Sunagakure, From Sand to City-_ maybe one day, but not today.

 _How to Go On: A Guide to PTSD-_ what did that mean?

 _Icha Icha Paradise-_ why did they even have this?

Shinki sighed, dropping his hand from the spines of the books to step back and look over the case as a whole. It was one of the many that lined the walls of the study, holding just a fraction of the numerous books Gaara owned but still there was nothing on it's shelves that caught his interest. He stepped away from this bookcase to pass on to the next one; the books here thicker and more focused on politics and government. He made note to come back to them later and start making his way through them, but right now he wanted something a little lighter, something not so heavy on the mind.

Three days had passed and Shinki hardly saw much of either of his caretakers. Gaara would come and make meals, sit and eat half of his with Shinki before he made a plate for Momoko and finished in their room with her. Kankuro had taken him out to the training grounds yesterday morning upon Gaara's request and though he was just as obnoxious as he had been when they first met, Shinki begrudgingly admitted that he was a rather respectable shinobi. His puppets in action were fascinating, Shinki could tell from just the glimpse he had caught of them. Though they weren't focused on his magnetic technique, the basic combat tips he had learned from Kankuro were helpful.

Even if his time was occupied by training and reading, Shinki could not help but think back to what had occurred. Gaara hadn't brought it up on his own and so Shinki didn't feel comfortable asking just yet. Though he had been there to witness it, it still felt like a private matter. Just as with the greenhouse, the boy would not satisfy his curiosity himself.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Gaara's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and the boy turned to him as he entered the study. The bags under his already thickly rimmed eyes seemed to be a little lighter today but there was still a fatigued look in his pale gaze. The Kazekage stepped forward and leaned against the desk with his arms crossed, skimming through the bookshelves as Shinki had done just minutes ago.

A little surprised to see him outside of the dining room, it took Shinki a moment before he found a reply.

"I'm not sure," He said, turning back to the books.

The Kazekage gave a small hum in the back of his throat as he continued to look over the titles.

"It's mostly all combat or politics, I'm afraid." Gaara commented.

"I've noticed."

His reply made the man smile just slightly even though it wasn't a particularly amusing or kind response. It could have been that Shinki was just a blunt individual, saying whatever came to mind without much hesitation, but Gaara was glad that he was finally allowing himself to be so. His straightforwardness reminded him of himself in his younger years.

"There are a few hobby books in the mix, if you can find them."

"What kind of hobbies?" Shinki asked, a little more interested in this topic than the ones previous.

"Kankuro left a few on wood working, and a guide to mechanics of some kind." Gaara replied, "There's one or two on knitting as well."

Maybe Kankuro's books would be interesting, Shinki thought to himself as he continued to look over the spines. He was observing the bookshelf behind the desk now, just a few feet away from where Gaara leaned against it. The books on this shelf were a little more personal and Shinki spotted the aforementioned knitting books as well. He had never seen a knit anything anywhere in the house but he made no comment on it. Everything else on the shelves were basic information guides or biographies of late shinobi and Shinki was ready to move on before something on the shelf eye level caught his eyes.

_The Beauty of Botany_

The spine looked worn and the silver lettering had long since lost it's metallic shine, but the delicate etchings along the spine were still intricate. Shinki pulled the book from the shelf slowly, seeing that it was older and well loved, and held the emerald book in his hands. The same silver etchings marked the front of the book, beautiful stems and leaves curled around different kinds of flowers embellishing it's cover. There was soot rubbed so deeply into the material that it would never come out, and light scorch marks that sporadically dotted the cover. It was a pretty book now, even with the peeling sliver, burned edges, and the faded emerald; it had obviously been held in hands countless times. There were a few tabs sticking out of the top and what looked like notes tucked into the pages, nearly doubling the real width of the book.

"What is botany?" Shinki asked absentmindedly, tracing a finger over one of the metallic leaves.

The question made Gaara's smile widen to something more tender, more genuine. There were few books on gardening in the whole house and only one on botany; it was a book they cherished.

"It's the study of plants, the science of them." Gaara replied, then added, "That's a favorite, so be careful with it."

Shinki gave a quick nod and held it in a looser grasp before opening the book. The first page was just a printed version of the cover, faded by time but still dark enough against the aged pages. On the back of the cover, however, the part still hard and sturdy, words were written in neat and faded ink.

_All my love, Gaara_

"I got that for her around the time we first started dating." Gaara explained fondly, pulling the boy from the subtle trace he had been in while staring down the book, "Back when she was running the flower shop."

Shinki paused, gaze flickering up to Gaara. It was the second time he had brought up the flower shop and yet Shinki still didn't entirely understand it. She worked in the greenhouses now, so what happened to her shop? It wasn't like it could have gone out of business- flowers in the desert didn't just go to waste. Especially not when the greenhouses hadn't even been built yet.

He hesitated for a moment, still holding the book gently in his hands. The last time he had asked about the past Kankuro had shooed him away with little more than a comment on his age, then again with a prompt to ask them himself. At the time it had seemed like an impossible solution, as neither Momoko nor Gaara made him particularly comfortable, but there had been a shift in the last few days before the incident.

Watching Gaara cultivate the cacti, vocalizing the instructions and telling Shinki what he was doing and why had been strangely pleasant. It wasn't a conversation entirely dependent on them for contribution, instead little more than showing and learning, but it had made communication between them come easier. He had let Shinki into a precious place, one previously thought to be a secret not meant for his eyes, and the unspoken appreciation of the action made Shinki a bit more at ease with the Kazekage. It helped that he was patient and kind, willing to answer Shinki's questions even if the child had never answered any of his own. Training with him for the first time had helped lessen the gap as well, the similarity of their power and alikeness of their personalities making for a rather pleasant interaction when finally given the chance.

Of course there were moments of hesitation like this, where the distance between them was still so wide and this understanding so new. Shinki almost thought to keep his mouth shut and not say anything more, but the patience that always resided in Gaara's eyes when he looked at him was reassuring and helped give him the courage to ask what had been on his mind for what felt like so long.

"What happened to the shop?"

There was no anger, no curling of the lip or comment about his too young age. Instead his gaze softened to something more distant, the smile on his face dropping just slightly but not quite disappearing. It was obvious that the answer was not a pleasant one but for the sake of both the child and himself, Gaara refused to acknowledge many of the memories that question brought.

"There was a fire," He replied honestly, "It took out the whole shop and Momoko's apartment above it."

Shinki frowned despite being glad that his question was answered, "Could you not just rebuild it?"

"We could have," Gaara agreed with a slow nod, choosing his words carefully, "But things were different after it happened. Rebuilding wasn't something to consider."

"Why not?" The boy asked, making good use of Gaara's willingness to answer, "I thought you said it did well."

"It did," He replied, pausing for a moment to pick through his next sentence before finally saying, "But it wasn't about money or business. Momoko and I..."

Maybe he hadn't even realized he had trailed off but Gaara's eyes dropped down, looking at but not seeing the papers on his desk. His brow had knotted just slightly and the smile had long since drifted from his lips. He didn't look so much angry or sad as he did simply lost in thought, and Shinki wasn't sure whether he should press on or not. Of course he was curious, all children were, but he had a feeling that he should stop while he was ahead.

"I didn't mean to pry," Shinki finally broke through the silence, the words stiff on his lips.

Gaara's gaze flickered to him and for a moment he considered leaving it here but decided against doing so. After what he had seen the other day it was only fair that Shinki understood at least some part of it.

"You aren't prying. Sometimes it's just hard to put things into words." Gaara reassured the child, "You live in our home and after what happened, you deserve answers."

Shinki frowned at the memory that came to the surface: Momoko's shaking hands, Gaara's worried gaze. The books were meant to distract himself from that for a while and this conversation had done a good job of doing so but now it was approaching the topic he had been trying to avoid for the last few days. But if Gaara was here and willing to answer, then Shinki was going to try to understand what he could.

"What...did happen?"

Gaara gestured to the desk chair and Shinki sat without a word, the botany book still in his small hands. The Kazekage shifted to face him more, seeming to once again contemplate the next correct course of words before they finally sorted themselves out enough to navigate.

"Momoko had a panic attack. It can happen for a lot of different reasons: maybe something she remembered, something she saw. They used to happen more often when we were first married but there hasn't been one in a few years now."

"Are they all like that?" Shinki asked, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"No," Gaara sighed, "Usually they're less aggressive but this one was the worst she's ever had."

Shinki nodded slowly, something akin to relief inside of him knowing that they hadn't gone through that sort of episode very often. It made him wonder what had sent her over the edge and why it had gotten such a violent reaction; more so, why it even happened at all.

"Is it something that just happens to everyone or...?"

"It can, but Momoko's more susceptible to them then most." Gaara explained, "Trauma does something different to everyone."

"Trauma..." Shinki repeated, rolling the word over in his mouth.

He had seen the word a few times, mostly on the spines of books in the study or on some of the posters in the hospital. The self-help books had never interested him very much so the only context he had of the word was when it came to the physical wounds he read about in combat books.

"Isn't that an injury?" Shinki finally spoke up.

"Sometimes, yes, but it can also mean the pain following a bad experience. I suppose in this case it can work as both."

Shinki gave another slow nod, going through the words Gaara spoke.

"Lady Momoko had- _has_ trauma." Shinki pieced together out loud, "And that's why she has panic attacks."

Gaara nodded, glad that he understood even if he wasn't doing the best job of explaining it. He had never really had to lay it out for someone like this before; Momoko understood too well, Kankuro made himself an expert on it for their sake, and Gaara had always known. No one had ever _not_ known these things, but Shinki was smart for his age and so that made it a little easier to pick up where Gaara fell short.

"Do you have trauma too, Lord Gaara?"

_You were my sister's legacy, but I could never bring myself to love you._

_Why am I an existence that desires that?_

_I love you, I-I love you, I love you, I love you, I-I love you, I-I-I-_

_From what we could tell, it was a girl._

_I want to hate you! Because I didn't deserve any of this!_

"Yes," Gaara finally said after what felt like years of staring at the child, "I do."

His answer almost seemed to surprise Shinki but that faded quickly with a look of deep contemplation. Shinki stared down at the book in his hand, pondering for what seemed like the millionth time how someone so strong could carry such burdens or be reduced to little more than nothing at just some sand tugging at his wrist. It was an answer he knew he wouldn't understand right away, one he hadn't been able to figure out no matter how much he thought on it.

Soon Shinki nodded without a word, still looking down to the book in his hands. He reread the faded words, his thumb running along the silver metallic embellishments. Of course there were still some things he didn't quite understand, pieces missing and information that just wasn't there yet. Once again he felt that strange feeling in his chest: a tight uneasiness that made him shift in his seat. For not the first time that day he remembered the worry on Gaara's face and Momoko's trembling words, and Shinki couldn't help but look up at Gaara as he stood still leaning against the desk.

Maybe he shouldn't have felt the relief that he did, shouldn't have felt that miniscule drop of joy in knowing that someone else had hurt in the ways he had, that someone _understood_ pain in the same ways he did. There is a comfort to be found in being understood by someone else, even if Shinki had never vocalized any pain of his own. He had no intention of doing so, at least not yet, but there was still some small part of him that softened at the very idea of Gaara and Momoko being able to understand what he himself couldn't quite sort through.

Shinki looked away from Gaara and out across to the desk before him, not so much looking for anything as he was turning his eyes in thought. His eye was caught by the photo sitting on the surface, one he hadn't paid attention to before and only now stopped to look at. It was an older photo, slightly yellowed from the years of sitting before the office window, but it was still clear and obviously well preserved behind the glass.

It must have been their wedding day, if the traditional attire was anything to go by. There were no wrinkles around their eyes yet, no silver streaks in Momoko's hair or setting lines in Gaara's face. They were younger and yet it was still different from the photo that sat in the living room. Momoko was as she is now, with short hair and scarred face, but there was a look in this photo that was entirely different from the look he so often saw. It could have just been because of the happy day, or because of Gaara, but there was no pain in her eyes, no ghosts that blurred her vision or distance that drew out her gaze. Even Gaara looked careless here, as though nothing but his new wife had ever mattered before this moment. It was hard to believe that the couple in the photo were the same people who looked after him now.

The picture was something out of fiction, happy and perfect, but Shinki was not so moved by it as he thought he would be. How could people that smile like that know such pain _?_ How could they find it within themselves to smile with so much joy and look at each other as though there was no world around them? He went as far as to consider the whole scene to be staged, but the effortlessness of their smiles and the gleam in their eyes was impossible to feign.

They carried their burdens with them always, fought internal battles every day just to survive to see the next one. He had seen with his own eyes the result of their trauma and could not help but wonder if it would last forever. Everything must come to an end, even the good things, so surely the horrible things did too? There had to be some remedy to all of it, something that could make the happiness in the photo last for more than the few moments in which it was taken.

"Is there a cure for it? The trauma?" Shinki finally asked after a moment, eyes fixed on freckled cheeks and pale green eyes.

Gaara smiled the way he always did: warm and so very kind.

"Love," He answered, "Not only for others, but for yourself as well. Loving who you are is just as important as loving others, maybe even more so. But to love yourself you have to accept yourself, and that includes your trauma. When you've finally acknowledged and accepted what you've gone through, you can begin to heal, begin to _love_."

Shinki was reminded once more of himself and the life he had known hardly a month ago. Cold nights, scraps of food, disgusted sneers from every passersby; thinking of it hurt. Thinking of the fear and dread that each day brought, the uneasiness around even those who meant to help, made Shinki want to curl in on himself. To think that the supposed cure to all of that would be _love_ \- the one thing he knew least of in this world, the one concept he couldn't quite understand. If love was so powerful as to cure what had been broken then why had Gaara's worry looked so horrible? Why had Momoko's hands trembled so much as they reached out for him?

What _was_ love, exactly?

"Thank you," Shinki muttered under his breath, "For explaining it to me."

"Thank you for listening," Gaara replied, then stood from the desk, "And for your patience these last few days. We'll resume your training tomorrow."

Shinki nodded without a word and Gaara left him to his thoughts in the vast office. The boy looked down at the book in his hands, at the faded silver and aged soot, and gently lifted the cover. He ran a light finger over the words inked in neat handwriting on the inside, over the exclamation of love followed by a neat signature. For a while Shinki stared at the faded ink, contemplating it in every way a child could, until finally he stood from the chair and made way to leave the study.

At the door he paused, looking back at the desk and the light that bled in through the window. He stared at the wooden frame for a moment too long before crossing the room to pick it up. Shinki looked over smiles and happiness, over _love_ , and finally slipped the photo under the book in his hands and left the room with both.

Once he returned to the privacy of the spare room Shinki sat at the desk tucked underneath the window and laid the book on top of it. He paused to look over the picture once more, lips pursed into a thin line and a feeling in his chest he was growing too familiar with, and without a word he sat it on the corner of the desk. Shinki looked out to the greenhouse, remembering the feeling of earth in his hands, before he once again opened the little emerald book. After observing the inked words one more time, Shinki began to read. 


End file.
